Bury Me Alive
by Scarlett Rogue
Summary: Anders made a terrible decision six years ago and now he'll have to pay for it. Can Hawke take up her own sword against Vengeance, or is the Anders she knew and loved still in there somewhere?


**Summary: Anders made a terrible decision six years ago and now he'll have to pay for it. Can Hawke take up her own sword against Vengeance, or is the Anders she knew and loved still in there somewhere?**

**Rated: T for dark themes  
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**Inspired by the song "Bury Me Alive" by We Are The Fallen. In the game I didn't kill Anders (I don't think I'll ever be able to bring myself to make that decision) and I figured, if I'm so insistent on sparing a fictional character, how would I feel if this was actually happening? Weird, I know. I never claimed I was normal. :P Enjoy!**

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><p><em>"I watched you let yourself die, and now it's too late to save you this time.<br>You bury me alive!  
>And everybody's gotta breathe somehow,<br>Don't leave me to die.  
>Too consumed by your own emptiness and<em> _lies."_  
><strong>~"Bury Me Alive" We Are The Fallen<strong>

A good friend once told Anders that the past was the past, that he could not change it and should not attempt to; always look to the future, that's what he said. Anders had tried so hard to live with this philosophy but it was, as he knew now, impossible. Every decision he had made in the past six years was dictated by his past. Every person he helped was affected by his experiences, though many of them were unaware.

After all, he only came along with Hawke to help Karl. Would he have interfered when he was younger, when he was happy turning a blind eye to the struggle of others, so long as he was safe? Would he have wanted to get involved in something so big?

_Never._

Anders always knew that mages were being mistreated, but he pushed it aside with humor. He lived the life of an optimist, an opportunist, never treading where he knew he was bound to drown. What happened to that carefree man, the man who_ lived_ to tell a good joke, feel the flesh of another bare against his skin?

He opened the floodgates to his pent up anger, his poorly concealed past, where he should have kept it hidden. It was easier to lie to himself and make himself think he was happy than it was now, to openly show others how miserable he was, how _weak _he was.

He wasn't stupid; he knew this act was weakness. He had let Justice into himself, allowed his anger to change Justice into something nobody could control. And now Vengeance was his only companion, and Anders _hated _him.

He sat on the crate alone, amidst the rubble, blood, and burning city, and he forced the words to penetrate his mind every second that he thought.

_You did this, you did this, you wanted this. How does it feel? You got what you wanted. Are you happy? YOU did THIS!_

It was his punishment, in a way. He was torturing himself with these bitter words but he couldn't stop himself and he didn't want to. The Chantry was against him, against everyone; though they never "chose a side" everyone knew who's side they were on. But that didn't mean each member deserved this fate. He could smell the smoldering flesh in the smoky air; his eyes burned from it and his nose attempted to wrinkle to ward off the repugnant scent, but he forced himself to smell it. He kept his eyes wide, never blinking, taking in the burn that he knew he deserved.

Bile rose and attempted to free his stomach from this mess but he swallowed it down. He would keep this poison in his body as long as he had to, forever if that's what it took.

Part of him wanted to move on, try to make amends by making the world a better place. The other part wanted to die.

He heard a sword scraping against the ground and wondered who had come to have his head. He secretly wanted it to be Hawke. Not that he wanted to cause her pain, but he had put her through so much. She deserved to choose which path his life took; it was out of his hands now. If he had his way he would ask Fenris, but that wouldn't be fair. Marian deserved to have a say in this.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was a near-perfect mask of strength and reason, something Hawke was famous for in Kirkwall. She always reasoned, never struck without having cause to. She had cause now. Why was she waiting?

His heart ached to hear the pain behind her strong words, the hurt he had caused her. He hung his head, exposing his neck further for her. He wanted to make sure she knew that she had a way out, a chance to escape the monster he had become.

"I was afraid you would stop me," he muttered back. "But even more than that, I was afraid that you would...offer to help. I won't let you become what I have become!"

Hawke could see what became of the man she loved; he was broken, perhaps beyond repair, offering up his life for his sins, and giving her the chance to take that from him. She could see how easy it would be to raise her sword and deliver one heavy blow to his neck. Then she could walk away and try to forget that he ever entered her life.

But you cannot simply erase someone's entire existence. Anders left his mark on the entire city of Kirkwall, and probably the whole world. He had started a rebellion and he knew it. And yes, Hawke knew it was inevitable, but this...this devastation was caused by the gentle apostate, once praised for him kindness and mercy.

There was no mercy left. No compromise. No going back.

And Hawke could not go back, either. She could not erase the love she felt for this man and she never wanted to. She didn't fall in love with a stable man in the first place. She knew the line she was stepping over the night they shared a bed. She accepted this fate long ago.

Anders heard the rogue's sword clatter to the ground and felt strong arms wrap around his stomach. He leaned back into the touch and felt the bitter sob rip through his throat. Why was she still here with him?

"I promised you I'd always be by your side. I don't care what we have to face, or how long it will take to mend the wounds that this has left on both of us, but I will _not _leave you. _Ever._"

She pulled him off the crate and into her warm embrace and, though he was not happy, though he hated himself now more than he ever had, he knew one thing for certain:

With her by his side, he could move on. He could make amends, fix some of what broke inside him years ago, and finally let his hatred fade. In time.

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><p>I'm not going to say this is the darkest thing I've ever written, but it's a close second. Anyway, if you read this PLEASE review! Dragon Age doesn't have a very big fanbase on this site and I'd really appreciate some feedback from those of you who are dedicated to it. Thanks for reading!<p>

~Alex


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